


Presumption

by jury



Series: Skydomfuck Universityworld [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Comment Fic, Condescension, M/M, Sex Magic, Sloppy Seconds, condescending praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jury/pseuds/jury
Summary: Martîn tries to give Amaury what he wants.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Skydomfuck Universityworld [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576741
Kudos: 31





	Presumption

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "100 words of bottom being patronizing to overwhelmed top". El checked this over for me and was very helpful!

Martîn's apartment was among the most humble of the teaching rooms. He had a small fire, an armchair that had been a hand-me-down at least twice, a desk that was home to more papers than space, a single, clunking radiator with a kettle on top that barely boiled, and a bed with a thin mattress and threadbare covers. Martîn never noticed these things; he spent four-fifths of his time in his office or the library anyway, but when Amaury stepped into the room, Martîn's eyes were drawn to all its flaws.

But Amaury didn't even look around before beginning to unbutton his coat, pulling his tie off with the other hand. Martîn didn't know what to do, nor where to stand. He had more questions, damn it — the things Amaury had said were of concern, of course, but so was the way that he was pulling his shirt open, the gape of it showing the jut of his collarbone, the brown peaks of his nipples. His head was tilted down, and the sharp line of his jaw caught Martîn's eyes as he knew it shouldn't. He should be looking at the dark smudges under Amaury's eyes, or the way that his lips were dry and bitten raw. 

Amaury's hands were at his belt now, sliding it through the buckle, and then he looked up at Martîn and saw him standing by the door, fully dressed and — there was no better word for it — goggling. 

"See something you don't like?" Amaury said. 

"I — no," Martîn said. He was thinking about the last time he'd had someone else in his rooms. Not even for — this, but for anything. 

Amaury was naked now. He was lightly flushed and pebbled with goosebumps, and there were finger-mark bruises on his hips that were dark enough to make Martîn swallow, his throat clicking. He lay back on the bed, his cock hard and red, pressed against his stomach. "Then come over here and take what you do."

Martîn undressed. It was difficult to do so under the heat of Amaury's gaze — he was lazily touching himself now, just pinching his nipples and taking the occasional light stroke of his cock like he might come if he touched himself properly. There was enough wetness at the tip and on his stomach to make Martîn suspect that was true.

Martîn was naked and hard too, but he was not as effortless in it as Amaury was. It took only remembering the heat and wetness of Amaury's mouth to bring him close to the brink of coming, and he had to push the thought out of his mind. It was two or three steps until he was at the edge of his bed, his hand sliding along the curve of Amaury's calf. Amaury made a little breathless noise and pushed his leg forward. 

"You don't have to be gentle," Amaury said. He hooked his leg around Martîn's hips and pulled him in, sharply enough that Martîn fell against him, the heat of his body overwhelming, his cock rubbing against the crease of Amaury's hip. "I've had sex."

"So have I," Martîn said, flushing with sudden indignation. 

"I mean _today_ , Professor," Amaury said. Martîn reached down and felt that he was telling the truth; his hole was soft and wet, Martîn's thumb slipping inside with just the barest pressure. "Come on," he said. "Are you trying, Professor?"

Martîn pressed the head of his cock against Amaury's hole, inching forwards with his hips. It was still so hot and soft inside, and he was clenching around Martîn. He could see the effect that it was having on Amaury's whole body, his back arching, mouth falling open. It didn't seem to be enough. 

"There's no need to try so hard," Amaury said, closing his eyes. The words slipped from his bitten-red lips. Martîn's thrusts were off-centre, searching. He couldn't control his movements. "It's just a bit to the left."

"I — " It was impossible to think. The pleasure was too intense, Amaury moving his hips in an undulation that was tearing Martîn's mind apart. He gripped at Amaury's hips, his fingers overlaying old bruises. It should have made him recoil, he thought, but it just made him harder, his cock twitching inside. 

He was perilously close to coming, thinking of how many men had been in his exact position, how many notes Amaury had passed, how many times his hole had been filled even today. It was come that was making the slide of his cock easy, and Martîn _knew_ it. His balls were drawn up tight. 

"You're doing so well," Amaury said, but he sounded bored. His eyes were open and he was looking at the ceiling. "If you could just — I imagined _more_."

"I'm trying," Martîn said, from between gritted teeth. 

"Are you?" Amaury said. "Did you even read the note?"

The note — did Amaury even still want this? Would it change anything if he didn't? Martîn couldn't think beyond the sensation of thrusting into Amaury's body, of the wet slide of his cock into his ass, the way he _looked_ , pink like he'd been slapped. It felt so good, but his words were cutting, making Martîn falter. Amaury was biting his own lips, brow furrowed like he was searching for even a jolt of pleasure. 

Martîn had never felt anything like this before, the way Amaury's ass kept pulling him back in, _demanding_ to be fucked. He squeezed around Martîn and Martîn gasped, falling forward as he came, his hips pushing deep. Inside Amaury was dripping now; any more and it would be slipping out with each thrust. He saw twinned pleasure and disappointment cross Amaury's face, and that, paradoxically, sent another wave of arousal through Martîn. 

His cock was still hard, impossibly. He bent down to pull out, apologies rolling through his mind.

"No," Amaury said, his legs trapping Martîn. "The note said 'until I pass out', Professor."

Martîn wiped sweat from his brow, looking down at Amaury's imperious face. He pulled back, gently, and then squeezed Amaury's hips and began to _fuck_ him, the thrusts rough and jolting. 

"Ah — " Amaury said, words punctuated with breathy moans. "That's it. Harder. Just do as I say. Like that."


End file.
